Maybe Without
by GearShift
Summary: Specs and Trapper are working on a new experiment, when something goes wrong. Specs loses his eyes for life, and becomes extremely depressed. Can his only friend help him back to his feet? (Slash, mabye. Undecided)


Disclaimer: I don't own Static Shock or any of its characters. They are copyrighted to their original owners.

Explosion. Bleeding. Burning. Headache. Pain. Pain, oh the horrible pain.

A slender hand raised itself to the temple of a young man, almond hair hanging loosely over the sides of his face.Specs touched the side of his own head, nerves twitching with the pain just a simple touch had brought. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The pain of trying to move his eyelids only made him groan. It felt like thousands of tiny needles being particularly placed into the lower portions of his for head. Nothing. He saw nothing but blackness. He forced himself to "blink" but nothing seemed to happen. Maybe he hadn't opened his eyes. He tried it again, but nothing of accomplishment came out of it. Perhaps there were no eyelids there. In his head he laughed quietly to himself, for it brought too much pain to move his jaw.

He lowered his hand back down to his side. He moved the tips of his fingers along what felt like sheets, his right arm feeling pleasantly painless. Gracefully it moved itself along the sheets coming to a strange conclusion. These sheets were covered with, what felt like, cheap thin plastic. Often like the stuff he used to use in childhood experiments with scraps from the garage. His mind still pondered the mystery of him not being able to see. He moved his right hand slowly up the side of himself until the fingers reached his face. Dealing with the pain of the touch, he moved his fingers along his face. They moved over his for head, his eyes then ran down the slope of his nose. Everything was still attached and in place, which was a good sign. The only problem was, everything but his mouth and his lower jaw line seemed to be covered in.. Bandages. The tops of the bandages seemed crusted with some kind of dried substance. Blood? No, it couldn't be, could it?

He thought to himself and tried to figure out where he was. The room smelt immensely different then his normal sleeping accommodations. It smelt of strong medicine, metal, and of course, plastic. He couldn't be in a lab if he was on a "soft" bed. It reminded him exceedingly of a hospital. That would probably explain the bandages and the strange plastic upon the bed. He still didn't understand how the room could be so immensely dark despite the fact he had bandages covering his face. Even if his face were covered the lights from the room, or perhaps maybe a window, would be able to shine through the small openings in the bandage fabric. Maybe the lights were off. Yes, that was probably the solution to the whole problem. The lights were off, and it was late. Of course, wouldn't the city lights shine through the window? He groaned to himself. He was so confused, and that was certainly a rare thing for him. He rested his head firmly back against the pillow, holding his own head up was a whole different task in it's own. He felt like it weighed over a ton, when in fact it probably weighed less then ten pounds. Of course with his genius, who knew how much it truly weighed? A few feet away, he heard a door creak open silently with a loud cry that signaled it needed to be oiled. He turned his head in the direction of the door, soon to hear high-heeled footsteps skitter quickly across the room. He stayed silent, only moving his head in the directions of the footsteps of, hopefully, a woman. With the long sounds of metal sliding against metal he felt warmth against his face. He figured she opened the curtains, considering the soft ruffling of thick fabric. Though there was still the small problem of no light. He could feel the warmth, and he could smell the dust fluttering swiftly off the curtains, but he still couldn't see any of the calming light of the sun. He heard the heels of the woman head towards his bed. He rose up his right arm, and muttered to her.

"Hey, Woman." But she just kept on walking past, until he heard the door slam behind her. He believed that to be completely rude. Wasn't -he- the patient? People in pain shouldn't be ignored. He snorted to the best of his ability, though it hurt like Hell. He lay stiffly on the bed, feeling the warm sun hit upon his face, and listened to the bustle of city traffic outside his window. He started to wonder if maybe the bandages on his face weren't the problem. Maybe it was his eyes. He turned his head to the left, facing the heat the sun brought to him. It was immensely strange; he had never appreciated the sun's rays as much as he was now. Perhaps it was because he couldn't see them at the moment. He turned his head upwards again, and sighed deeply.

He couldn't even remember how the Hell he ended up here. One minute he was working on a new project, and the next he's bandaged up in the hospital. Curiously he tried to prop himself up, perhaps it would get his blood flowing and he could see normally. He went to lean on his left arm, only to screech out a cry of pain and drop quickly back onto the bed. His whole body ached; even from landing on a soft mattress. Quickly pulling himself back together, he decided to use his right arm instead. Slowly he shifted his body weight and bent his right arm, slowly raising his body on top of it. He was almost up when a sharp pain in his left arm spoiled his satisfaction. There was an IV needle tucked nicely into his skin that wouldn't allow him to move his arm any further outwards. He was starting to get aggravated, just laying there on a bed when he had no idea what was going on really didn't please him.

After much struggling, he finally settled himself on his back once again. He started to wonder where Trapper was, if he was even all right. He was working on the project with him, or that's what he thought anyway. Now that he thought about it, Trapper seemed to be his only friend, and not even he was here to comfort him. These thoughts started to greatly depress him, and not many things did that. He was always taught to be strong and to put himself on top and above everyone else. He was told that was the only way someone could succeed in life. He continued pondering his thoughts until his head felt as if it were going to explode. Eventually, sleep overcame him and he drifted into the deep chambers of his mind.


End file.
